


prey

by icecream12



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - War, Angst, Blood and Injury, Graphic Description, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Pain, Prisoner of War, Sadism, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25113277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icecream12/pseuds/icecream12
Summary: In a war where no one could see an end, Kuroo finds himself in the claws of the fearsome interrogator Haiba Lev, a fate far worse than any bleak and dreaded afterlife.Bokuto vows to find him, even at the cost of what little he had left of the war-torn world.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Haiba Lev & Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	prey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [5eku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/5eku/gifts).



> Please be warned there will be graphic descriptions of violence and torture.  
> This is for my fellow sadist! It was inspired by this [fan art](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DFAxJ1aV0AA3Vhb.jpg:large) (artist: @saru_demon on Twitter)
> 
> I will be adding additional tags as I add more chapters, so please be aware of them.

The warm, tepid copper pooled upon Kuroo’s tongue, he attempted to swallow it back, only for more to gather where the previous mouthful was recently thrown back. He choked on a cough when he forced his burning limbs to move faster, to get away, to just run.

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore the ache growing and tearing within his upper abdomen where a burning bullet tore through his flesh and muscles, the only God knew what else it went through, but Kuroo could make a pretty good guess with the pain that accompanied it and the blood making its way throughout all the wrong exits. However, the adrenaline did him some good with the mediocrity numbing buzzing coursing through his abused body.

“Kuroo!”

It took a long moment to realize he had fallen behind Bokuto significantly, his eyesight faltering rapidly into a smear of darkness of the sleeping city that had long morphed into nothing more than a blood tainted battlefield. 

A firm, almost painful grip clasped around Kuroo’s arm and a pair of concerned, tawny eyes bored deep into Kuroo’s. “Kuroo? Hey, hey we’re nearly out of here, we just gotta go a little further, ok?”

Kuroo could only manage a singular, strained nod and pushed himself to move, however, he only doubled over and groaned in response to the agonizing pain flaring below his ribs. “Fuck— Bokuto, just go ahead, I can’t move as fast as you—”

“You’re hit?!” Bokuto crouched down and searched wildly for the source of Kuroo’s pain, frenzied eyes landing upon the seeping liquid glistening through his all-black attire. “No! No, no, I’ll carry you—”

“That’ll slow you down as well, dumbass. I’m fine, I’ll be behind you.”

“Don’t lie,” he choked, a burning sting welling in his vision. He turned on his heel, grip still firmly wrapped around Kuroo’s arm as he began to run. “Just hold onto me, I’m gonna get us out of here. ‘Kaashi and the others are just two buildings away— we can make it.”

There wasn’t much of a point in arguing with Bokuto, Kuroo knew that. If the worst-case scenario came to play and Kuroo couldn’t stand any longer, there wouldn’t be any debate on whether Bokuto would just try to carry Kuroo on his back and ignore all training and safety procedures, likely getting himself shot or killed. Kuroo wordlessly tagged behind Bokuto, biting down in his lower lip until the skin threatened to split beneath the pressure. He continuously glanced back with his firearm on hand, firing off a few rounds to see those tailing them drop to the concrete or at the very least slow them down. 

When the limbs doing all of the difficult work to carry Kuroo as best as they could ultimately fail, leaving him crumbling to the ground, it gradually became clear what the culprit behind that as Kuroo caught new-found moisture spreading over his outer thigh. Bokuto almost fell with him, looking in a frantic state at Kuroo who only let his head hang in defeat. “Bo, just run.”

“I’m not leaving you—”

“People need you!” he snapped, vocals bordering on feral and strained behind his clenched, blood-stained teeth. “They need you… We can’t both die out here so just fuck off before I shoot myself in the damn head.” 

“Don’t you dare—”

“Go, Bokuto! I swear I’ll hate you forever if you waste any more time, you need to go—” Voices gained closer to them, bullets close to raining on the two revolt soldiers in a matter of seconds. “Go! That’s an order!” 

Bokuto shook his head, backing away in defeat while his gaze never left Kuroo’s broken down form. The golden gleam long left his eyes and was replaced by a vapid mud shade, glassy and in denial. When a bullet whizzed past his face it snapped Bokuto back into action and he tightened his lips, forcing himself to turn away with the whites of his stare shot red and teary. 

The words went unspoken but remained loud and clear in Kuroo’s otherwise ringing ears. Though, it wasn’t goodbye he wanted to hear, because deep down, Kuroo didn’t want this to be the end, despite his so-called heroic sacrifice to ditch himself so Bokuto could get away. He was still deathly afraid. Afraid of the darkness consuming him, afraid of the believed nothingness that came after one’s life was spent. Kuroo didn’t want to die, no matter how brave he told himself he was.

When Bokuto’s two-toned strands gradually vanished from his dimming sight, Kuroo sighed with the warmth threatening to stream down rusted stains and weary skin. He allowed himself to collapse from his knelt form, feeling the dampened concrete hit his back with anything but delicacy. Though, with Kuroo’s fading senses, anything would be acceptable for now. With the noises drowned out behind the muted water-like feeling, pins and needles spreading from the tips of his fingers and up the remainder of his body; it was almost comforting. 

_“Follow the other one! He’ll lead us to their hideout.”_

_“We lost sight of him, sir—”_

_“He was just here you moron, keep looking! He wouldn’t have gotten that far.”_

_“What about this one?”_

_“He’s dead, leave him.”_

_“Sir, he’s still breathing.”_

_“Just kill him, dammit.”_

The resonated click of a firearm sounded like bliss to Kuroo, who only wished for death to arrive soon at that moment. Death was far more comforting than listening to those savage beasts breath and mutter above him, regardless of his initial fear of the unknown. 

_“…Lieutenant Haiba, what do we do?”_

A pang of familiarity sparked within Kuroo’s mind at the name, but it only rendered him puzzled and he didn’t have the energy to think too hard about it. 

_“Take him, if he lives we’ll force something useful out of that mouth of his.”_

_“And if he doesn’t talk?”_

_“He will. Everyone talks with me one way or another.”_

Fear and apprehension welled with the pain within Kuroo’s stomach, not even being able to force his lead weighed eyelids to peel open to gather who exactly was speaking and only had the burning warmth of their breath stinging the clammy surface of his paling face. He almost wanted to snort at the Lietenant’s confidence, as Kuroo knew better than anyone that he wouldn’t dare put his comrades, his friends, at risk. 

Kuroo may not have had the internal sturdy guts of a brave soldier, but he was strong will enough to go through with just about anything if it meant the safety of his friends. Not even the mind consuming, tormenting fear could break him. 

Eventually, Kuroo’s mind began to falter and dim along the rest of his useless body, dulled voices gradually fading to nothing but a low drone, all feeling morphing into mere icy ripples that washing through his veins and muscles. 

* * *

_“…time to wake up…”_

_“Hey…”_

Kuroo couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or shut, the stark, harsh white overhead throwing all of his senses out of whack. The voice coaxing him out of the darkness he was happily wallowing within grew in volume, gradually gaining more a sharp, commanding tone that broke the sweat over Kuroo’s face.

“Wake up!”

The final command finally lured Kuroo more into the living world, eyes cracking just barely open before squeezing them tightly shut again in an attempt to shield off the blinding light surrounding him. Instinctively, Kuroo went to raise his hands up to his face to rib his eyes, however, he soon discovered that he was bound by restraints, and his arms were already strung up and behind his head against the wall. He was stood up, that much became clear as he senses eased awake. The restraints were metal by the sounds of the clanging, however, the cuffs and straps over his arms were made of a kind of leather material, though it did little to soothe his aching wrists against the burn where he violently attempted to tug at them. 

As consciousness rapidly returned to Kuroo, he grew more and more restless, finding that his legs too were restrained to prevent him from kicking. The figure beside him was last to make its way fully into Kuroo’s attention and field of vision, but on cue, Kuroo took his chance to hurl a mouth full of spit at his supposed interrogator. 

The bubbled fluid seeped down the silver-haired man’s sharp features while he snickered down at Kuroo, raising a hand to wipe it away with a chillingly content demeanor. His emerald gaze was anything but soothing and relaxing like the color spectrum of green was supposed to be, and instead was fierce and intimidating, sharp and dangerous. His glare alone was enough to cause the uneasiness to creep beneath Kuroo’s skin. 

“As usual, you guys are always quite the disgusting beasts,” he laughed, vocals low and taunting, however, it had the hint of playfulness laced within. Playtime with this guy didn’t sound so joyful to Kuroo. 

Kuroo only tightened his lips, refusing to even give him the satisfaction of hearing him breathe let alone speak. It was now or never, and no turning back. Kuroo opened his mouth in preparation of slam his teeth down on his own tongue, but apparently the men either side of him were prepared for such a bold act and had already gagged him with a cloth. 

“Ah, come on now. We’ve already stopped the bleeding at one sight, no need to cause another blood bath!” he said, motioning a flash of green towards Kuroo’s stomach. Kuroo reluctantly glanced down, realizing that although the pain was still there, it was more dull and unnoticed compared to before. Also, blood was now minimal and barely seeping past the ivory medical dressing. His leg, however, was left unattended. He supposed they’d only want to spare time on the more life-threatening injury especially considering he wasn’t even one of their own. The bigger question was though, why did they stop him from bleeding out to death? 

Kuroo mumbled behind the make-shift gag, slicing his feline glare towards the men tightening their grips on the twisted cloth.

Moments slipped past, each one of them jeering Kuroo to accept defeat and back down, however, he didn’t do such a thing. “You’re wondering why we would bother saving a traitor such as yourself, right?”

Kuroo only stared at him, the whiskey in his eyes barely wavering as they stared one another down. 

“Well, we couldn’t have our only source of information dying now, most of you guys blow your brains out before you get caught,” he finally said. 

Kuroo wished he had the energy to do that when he had the chance, but he was certain he would have bled out by the time they got the chance to tend to his wounds. He should have got Bokuto to kill him, to seal all loose ends, and secure everyone’s safety. Never the matter, Kuroo knew he wouldn’t speak, dead or alive. 

“Do you know who I am?” The man asked, stepping around Kuroo. When Kuroomade it apparent he was _gagged_ , he continued. “My name is Haiba Lev, and I’d be gravely disappointed if you hadn’t already heard of me, even around your parts.”

Kuroo knitted his thin brows together, musing over that name hundreds of times in the space of a few seconds. Had he heard of that name before? He couldn’t quite figure it out, but somewhere, deep in the cracks of his memory, he might have… 

The Lieutenant General, that’s it! But not only that, the Russian Lieutenant was known to be exceptionally ruthless, in both battles and in interrogation. Interrogation, however, was what gained him fame, known to drive people to total insanity if not death by the time he got the information he needed, and he _always_ got what he needed eventually. Kuroo didn’t want to sound full of himself to expect he’d be that one guy to not break under the interrogator’s pressure, but he still couldn’t see himself throw his comrades under the bus like that. No, he wouldn’t dare. He’d rather die, be dragged all the way through hell, lose his mind to a midnight abyss, _anything. But was he really that strong?_

Kuroo shouldered off his momentary doubt, cursing internally at himself for even slipping for that flickering moment. He knew he was strong enough, there was no question about it. He simply shrugged, appearing entirely indifferent to the man’s revelation. 

Lev raised an eyebrow that framed his large, sharp eyes, baring his glistening teeth maliciously. “That’s okay! I’m sure everyone would hear about me after I’m done with you,” he almost sang, his tone cheery and taunting. Kuroo didn’t let that frighten him, at least to the best of his ability. 

“Do your friends know you’re alive?” Lev asked as he turned away, facing a table with a variety of tools that only brought the word _painful_ to Kuroo’s mind. “Take that as a no, so I suppose I won’t have to worry about one of you stray vermin barrelling in here and interrupting us, right?” 

Obviously, there was only silence. Lev seemed to become increasingly impatient and ordered his men to release the gag.

“But sir—”

“I can’t stand talking to myself,” he bit back. “He isn’t going to bite off his tongue.”

So he thinks—

“Because if he does, I will personally go and grab another one of these little rats myself and turn them inside out in front of Tongueless-san,” he threatened, no doubt sensing the dream that emitted from Kuroo’s core. 

The gag was reluctantly removed, and Kuroo dwelled on Lev’s threat. When Lev was confident Kuroo was keen on keeping his own tongue, he smirked wryly, sliding a blade off of the steel surface before placing the cool metal against the delicately soft skin of Kuroo’s throat. “Your name?”

Kuroo tested his patience with a few more seconds before the pain grew sharp and piercing, a warm liquid beginning to escape down the side of his neck. “Kuroo.” Another few seconds and Lev’s hardened features remained along with the blade against Kuroo’s throat. “Tetsurou.” Kuroo was certain that this man can no doubt play out his threat to reality.

When the blade was lifted from where it was almost burrowed, Kuroo released a faint sigh. If it was pathetic questions like these Kuroo didn’t have too much of a problem answering them, and he doubted his name was worth choking on his own blood over. Besides, his name he’d have to give up anyway instead of sensitive intel. 

“Interesting name! What should I call you, Kuroo-san? Tetsu-chan? I think I still like kitty most of all.”

“How about calling me nothing.”

“Will you always have such a sharp attitude with me?” Lev whined, pulling an almost childlike expression down at him. “Kuroo-san then, if you hate everything else that much.”

 _What was with this guy being considerate in some kind of sense?_ It was a trap, for sure. Kuroo knew Lev was luring him into feeling more comfortable around him and then use that opportunity to rain all hell on top of him. A cheap tactic, but it often worked with those who didn’t know better.

“Anyway, Kuroo-san,” Lev began, holding a smile against his pale features. “Would you like to tell me where the rest of you are? This war would be over so much quicker if rid of all of you traitors, and then all that will be left are the ones who agree on one subject.”

Silence.

“We won’t kill them, only those who attack.”

Still nothing.

“They will only be prisoners until they accept and see the light of the situation and we will all come together as one.”

Kuroo tried his best to ignore Lev adjusting his brass knuckles and could only brace his already aching body futility for what was about to come. 

“The longer this war goes on, more of your… _friends_ will die.” The words rolled off Lev’s tongue in an almost disgusted manner, as though he truly couldn’t see those who opposed as anything above diseased vermin or anything remotely close to human. 

There was only the vague sound of their breaths gathering in the moderately sized room and Lev’s exasperated sigh soon followed. Kuroo could feel Lev’s slender fingers weave and then clasp onto his dark, matted strands before he harshly yanked upwards, drawing Kuroo’s face to the ceiling and his throat bared. 

“Last chance, _kitty.”_ The nickname seeped out like poison past the Russian’s pale lips, a hiss laced within his words. That wasn’t enough to break Kuroo.

He released the dark locks and immediately got down to business, connecting his weaponized fist into Kuroo’s ribs repeatedly where the blunt thuds were soon replaced by sickening _cracks_. Kuroo couldn’t even catch a breath to be able to scream at the fire spreading violently through his chest and side; he could only choke on the air that he gasped through to his raw throat, blood welling up the sore walls and leaking from the corners along with the saliva he wasn’t able to control at that point. 

“Kuroo… Tetsurou…” Kuroo gasped, voices catching on the fluid overwhelming his throat. “First li—lieutenant… 3242… 1… 992”

Another _crack_ and Lev still didn’t stop there. Kuroo couldn’t even think, not of the pain or of anything else. There was only the blearing _red_ corrupting his senses, ripping him apart as his ribs were being reduced to nothing but shattered dust, digging and tearing through everything else it was supposed to be protecting. 

“Your rank became meaningless the moment you rebelled. The revolt is the enemy; they’re _your_ enemies, trapping you in an unwinnable situation and you _know_ that, Kuroo-san.”

Kuroo’s previously silent breathing now came out labored and rattled disturbingly. Each gasp was gurgled with the crimson pouring out into all the wrong areas inside of his ravaged body, burning tears forming at the corners of his reddening glare and mixing the spluttered blood pooling and spraying past his chewed lips. 

“Kuroo Tetsurou, f—first Lieutenant... 32… 32… 3—” Another desperate rasp for air, Kuroo felt his chest almost collapse on itself. “—2421… 992.” 

Behind the blinding pain, Kuroo couldn’t even tell when Lev had stopped, and would have gone on thinking he was still smashing his ribs to smithereens if it weren’t for the dimmed voice speaking beside him. Kuroo’s ears were ringing, and each breath felt like he had been punched an extra 20 times. It took him a few moments to realize his eyes weren’t even shut anymore, and that his vision had just been consumed in the inky black. 

“Shhhh… shhh, it’s okay… I don’t have to hurt you like this, you just need to cooperate kitty… You won’t need to cry, it’s okay… Let me save you from them, let me free you from the revolt, tell me where the base is and you’ll only receive the grandest treatment here, you’ll be a _hero.”_

It was sickening listening to the facade kindness— if kindness was even the correct word for Lev’s tone, as it was clearly a mocking taunt, a fake, a trick to lure Kuroo’s desperate self into a lion’s den thinking it was a safe haven. So he shut off his hearing, disconnecting from the outside world in a futile attempt to pretend he just died, that he didn’t have to endure any more pain. 

“F—fuck you,” Kuroo spat, burning glare remaining for only a short moment before he closed himself off. 

Lev watched Kuroo’s gaze fade, the glossy sheet coating the dreary amber heavy and foggy. He sighed and ran a bloody hand down the side of Kuroo’s clammy face, staining the skin beneath his wrongdoing touch before he turned away. 

“I’ll be back later, kitty. Don’t miss me too much.” 

The room went silent other than the hollow rattles from Kuroo’s lungs for what felt like hours before the room was filled again, though that time it wasn’t Lev. Kuroo could tell without opening his eyes because it was almost like he had a sixth sense that signaled his terrified body when that monster was anywhere close. 

Who was it though? Someone else to interrogate him? 

The hands were neither tender nor violent; they tugged and pulled at the dampened material that stuck to the split skin along Kuroo’s ribs and the soldier could barely bring himself to hiss at the sharpness of his tender chest being tended to. 

_“Jesus, Lieutenant really went in on this guy.”_

_“Haven’t had any prisoners in for a while, I bet the psycho missed this shit.”_

_“First day here and he already has no ribs.”_

_“I almost feel sorry…”_

_“Shut up, he obviously deserves it.”_

_“Won’t be saying that when Lev turns this guy basically inside out. Last time you threw up with the last prisoner.”_

_“…Psst, hey kid can you hear me?”_

_“He’s out cold of course he can’t—”_

_“If you can, just tell Lieutenant whatever he’s askin’ you. Because you’re gonna get it a lot worse than this.”_

Kuroo could barely register the words apparently being spoken to him, he could only let out a weak groan in response which was more of an attempt to tell whoever was so close to him to fuck off. 

_“Oi, help me out here, we gotta make sure he doesn’t die or anything overnight.”_

_“God, then we’d be the ones strung up.”_

_“Lev really hates his ‘pets’ dying on him.”_

_“Hilarious, considering everything he does is near enough fatal to a normal person.”_

His head hurt, his chest felt like there were a ton of bricks on top of it, further crushing what remained of his ribcage, he felt the room was spinning even with his eyes shut and his mind blank. The voices were long muted out and the hands were no longer anything more than a breeze upon his skin. 

One thing Kuroo could think of past this whole nightmare was Bokuto. He was glad he told him to go but more than anything right then, he wanted the comfort of his vibrant grin, the safety of his strong embrace, the warmth and security of his lips against his own. 

_I miss you._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> P.S: I have no idea how military serial numbers work, it's just a bunch of numbers thrown together in this case lmao


End file.
